The Dream of the 90s is Alive at Mojave Moon
Picture it. Indianapolis, 1992. A teenage girl, most often described as artsy, sits in her bedroom under the watchful eye of Kim Gordon in a Sonic Youth poster. Incense is burning, crystals are shining from the light of a nearby window. In front of her are bottles of essential oils she purchased from the local New Age store. Patchouli, Frankincense, Myrrh, Cinnamon and Clove. She mixes them together, drop by drop, to create the most beautiful perfume the world had ever known! That artsy teenager was me and that is how I first fell in love with scent.
The early 90s were all about punk and DIY culture and I was constantly mixing up some new potion or lotion or face mask made out of stuff I found in the kitchen cabinet or fridge. Egg white masks to tighten pores, lemon juice solutions to lighten our nails and hair, Tea Tree oil to soothe a pimple, beer rinses to make the hair shiny. We were the granddaughters of women who lived through the Great Depression and our Grandmothers taught us about folk remedies and herbal medicines.
It wasn’t until COVID hit that many of us found ourselves spending more time at home, looking for new hobbies and old comforts. Yeah, I did some baking. I made some macrame. I planted a garden. But it wasn’t until I got out a couple of old dusty bottles of essential oils that the knot in my chest finally began to loosen. Before I knew it, my dining room was turned into an alchemist’s laboratory. Bottles everywhere, scent strips spread out like Chinese fans, my trash can overflowing with tiny pipettes that I had used for mixing. “Here, smell this,” I would say, to my partner, my dog, my neighbors. “Here, try this… it’s real gold and everything’s organic!”
Scent is an emotional catalyst. It has the power to evoke memories and set an intimate stage to create new ones. As we spend so much time alone these days, we desperately crave connections. The scent of lavender brings back a memory of the sachet our mother used to keep in her dresser drawer. The scent of fresh roses from our first High School sweetheart. The smell of sage from a hiking trip in the mountains.
For me, there is something comforting about natural scents and pure, simple ingredients. It makes me feel grounded and gives me nostalgia for a different time, when things were a bit slower, a bit less commercial. A time where everything an artsy girl needed could be found in her kitchen pantry.
Me in My Bedroom, 1992.